


Counting Sheep

by Thrownhammer



Category: Bourne (Movies), Bourne Series - All Media Types, Bourne Ultimatum (2007)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrownhammer/pseuds/Thrownhammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[COMPLETE] J/N After Jason Bourne wakes up from jumping off the rooftop in NY, he has no idea of how he got out of the river or where he is. As he uncovers what happened after he jumped, he must learn to overcome more than short term memory loss if Nicky Parsons or Pam Landy are going to live to see another Christmas. This is unrelated to my longer story 'Bourne Again'. Enjoy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On the lamb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Frustsheep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frustsheep/gifts).



> I wrote this as Christmas present for my friend and biggest fan Frust-sheep. Thank you for all the joy your reviews bring me! Enjoy and everyone have a Merry Christmas! This is going to be 4 chapters, this is the first.

 

Chapter 1

 

The man most commonly and now most famously, known as Jason Bourne awoke with a start and sat straight up out of bed. His skull suddenly felt like it had been torn in half and he reached up in complete agony. As an agent for the CIA he had been trained to withstand pain and torture, but this level of pain was incredible. It hit him so unexpectedly that he almost lost bowel and bladder control.

He panted for several moments and was suddenly aware that he wasn't alone. Turning he saw that a fully dressed woman was in bed with him, he was fully dressed as well including his shoes.

The woman brushed her recently cut and dyed hair from her face and dashed his assumption that she was Marie Kreutz. He remembered that his lover of three years was dead and swallowed hard, realizing that he was suddenly very thirsty. He remembered the sight of Marie's body floating away from him in the warm waters of the Ganges. It had hovered almost spirit like in front of him and Jason suddenly had to bottle those intense emotions or else he would lose control.

One thing was for certain, he thought as he shivered; he wasn't in India. He then saw the woman shiver as well, just as he saw her breath as she exhaled into the cold dawn air. The woman sleeping next to him was named Nicky Parsons. She was his former CIA coworker who had also been stationed in Paris with him so many years ago. She tightened herself into a smaller fetal ball in a vain attempt to keep warm. She wasn't really 'small' at five foot eight but she was very slight of frame which always made her look deceptively tiny.

He saw her breath as she exhaled again and realized with a start that he didn’t know where he was. He remembered having to run from the CIA and that he had put Nicky on a bus in Spain and then he left to go to New York. He remembered meeting Hirsch, then he jumped from the roof as he was shot, and he fell fourteen floors into the Hudson River.

He suddenly stood and rushed to the window and looked at the sky line: Manhattan… He looked back at his sleeping co-worker who was now stirring as well. She had once hinted that they had been more to each other than just colleagues. 'It was very difficult for me… …with you,' had been her exact words, which were ambiguous to say the least. It had been her warm brown eyes had told the real story, they had been in love and she still was. He couldn't remember how he got… here… He surveyed the room; it looked like a cheap hotel. It was undoubtedly a 'by the hour' place by the lack of heat.

Nicky had stirred and was sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were sunken and she looked thinner than usual. She hadn't been eating or sleeping correctly for quite some time. With gloved hands she rubbed her face trying to regain focus. He wondered when was the last time she had slept at all, much less well. He had a million questions but didn’t want to bombard her all at once.

Bourne had been injured and lost his memory before, it having been complete amnesia the first time. This seemed to be a short term loss at the very least. He had left her in Spain and now here she was in New York and he couldn't remember anything after jumping off the building and landing in the Hudson.

He looked back out the window at the street in time to see a man in a black coat and newsboy hat run across- just a cab ran the light, causing a cabbie to lay on his horn and swear at the innocent pedestrian. "We have to go, now!"

She rushed to his side, but stood opposite him in order to not stand in front of the window. "Shit…" she murmured.

He looked at the window sill, the window was painted shut. "That's not an agent, he is an asset. He isn't blindly following a lead… he knows we're here! Out! Now…!"

She grabbed her backpack bolted to the door and flung it open. Jason was on her heels and barked, "Go up!" She flung open the ancient fire door to the stairway, a relic to the golden age of compartmentalization and she bound up the stairs two at a time with Jason hot on her heels.

After three flights they reached the top and it was pad locked. He started to say, "Back down…" but they both heard the screeching of a door opening five floors below them. He looked at Nicky who had just inserted lock pick tools into the pad lock. He cocked his head listening to the man taking two stairs at a time up two flights and got off on their old floor. "Come on… No time…"

The lock popped open and she smiled in a very Mona Lisa way and he realized that he had never seen her smile, not that he could remember anyway. In her defense the majority of the times he had seen her since he had lost his memory had been down the barrel of a gun. She pulled the padlock off and started to replace it on the opened hatch, "take it. He might not know it was locked…" She grabbed it and threw the door open and shut it behind them.

Bourne muttered, "Don't move. We'll leave foot prints in the snow, walk around the edge near the door where the snow has melted. He might not look. Okay good… go!" They ran to the edge and he shouted over the winter wind, "Fire escape, now! It is on the opposite side as our room… he won't see us."

She slid down the ladder and then started meandering down the fire escape at a staggering speed. She kicked the release for the ladder to drop to the street and she placed her hands and feet on the outside of the rungs and slid to the street. Bourne glared at her in wonder as she stared up at the roof, "…glad I grew up in Soho and hated dictatorial regimes!" She turned and ran from the alley to the street and glanced back to the alley, "Fuck!"

Bourne looked over his shoulder to see the asset at the far end of the alley glaring at them both from the opposite street. She held up her hand giving him the one fingered salute, "Bite me Nigel, you always were an asshole…"

"Please don't tap the glass Nicolette…" Bourne scolded, expecting a scathing rebuke but she let it pass. "I forgot you know them all, well some of them…" he said as Nicky spun and ran down the sidewalk.

She saw a bunch of girls about to get in a cab when Nicky suddenly screeched, "Oh my God! That's Ben Affleck!!!" while pointing and looking past them. No seasoned New Yorker would've fallen for that even though Affleck had just been proclaimed 'the sexiest man alive' by most of the newsstand rags, but these girls were college girls visiting during winter break from the look of their clothing. Jason jumped in and Nicky slammed the door after them screaming "Go, go, go!" to the cab driver.

He heard one of the girls exclaim, "That was Erika Christensen, that sow jacked our cab!"

As the cabbie yanked the wheel and tore into traffic as another girl shouted, "I hated you in Traffic!" not realizing the irony.

"We won't get far in this…" Bourne said looking over his shoulder.

In response Nicky grabbed a fist full of hundred dollar bills from her purse, "If you can get me to 42nd and Park in 7 minutes I'll give you a thousand dollars!"

Both men looked at her like she was crazy, "The paparazzi are chasing me…"

The cabby saw the wad of cash and spun back around, in answer he pounded on the accelerator. "I can't wait to see Spiderman!" the cabbie managed in a thick Turkish accent.

Jason braced himself and looked over and Nicky was counting out ten one hundred dollar bills as the car wove in and out of traffic, tore through yellow lights, and at one point crossed into the contra lane when there was an opening. Jason looked behind them and saw no evidence of pursuit.

"We should get out here…" he whispered. He looked over and she unfolded her fingers and he saw that she was holding a pad lock key and then coughed needlessly looking at the cab driver. Bourne nodded his understanding and she looked at the unit number on the key before stowing it in her pocket again.

The cab got within a block of their destination and Nicky barked, "This is good, pull over!" She held out the cash in a clutched fist, "Now I want you to actually drive to Newark- to the airport. Put it in your log and you were never here. If you do this I will know and I will call you again for more work, do you understand?"

He nodded and took the cash and passed her his card, "Have a nice flight... How many bags and where are you going?"

"One backpack and Iceland… Thanks…" She jumped out and Bourne followed on her side and then they briskly walked down the sidewalk.

He cracked a smile, "That's a little different, but I guess you're the psychologist. You want him to spread the word but make it seem like you over did it? Iceland is a nice touch, out of the way but a major hub to move through on the cheap. You know that though… Ms. Logistics…"

She smiled again slightly and ducked under the awning of a closed store. She pulled out a different color beret and scarf and put them on as well as glasses she usually used to read. She looked in the glass door and then tucked her mangled hair under the beret. "That's good enough, we need to keep moving…" he said as she pulled out reading glasses and put them on.

He followed her into grand central terminal which seemed full to capacity, even more so than usual. He followed closely as she wove through the tourists and sightseers like the native New Yorker she was and into the subway and she got on the first train going north. They rode for ten minutes before switching trains and followed suit three more times.

Suddenly Jason doubled over in agony as he felt like a piece of molten metal was in his skull. "Ahggg," he gasped involuntarily. He saw Nicky look around, she knew he must be in trouble to show pain, but it wasn't just the pain but it was the overt suddenness of the onset. It was as though he had been shot. He couldn't breathe and felt the sudden need to projectile vomit, which he fought.

Bourne was still trying to regain composer as the train stopped and Nicky moved to get off the train. He saw a miscreant change course to intercept Nicky as they got off the 3rd train but couldn't offer much more than a hushed warning, "Pickpocket on your left…"

She clutched her purse in both hands and the ruffian switched course to an old Chinese woman ahead of Nicky. Bourne moved swiftly and swept his legs and moved to pull backward on his jacket collar but he missed with both attacks. Bourne blinked twice in shock and then launched into another flurry of blows, intending to arm bar him in a jujitsu lock and force him to the ground. When Bourne reached out to grab his arm Bourne's hand reached right through him! Jason swung a volley of jabs; all passed through the man's face as he bumped into the elderly woman and removed her coin purse from her coat pocket.

Jason staggered backward in shock and walked through a pillar. His head once again burned with white hot intensity. "Ma'am… Ma'am!" he heard Nicky bellow. He forced his eyes open and saw that Nicky had the man on his knees and his face was contorted in anguish as Nicky applied more pressure to the man's wrist which was locked behind his back. "Ma'am, you dropped your wallet…… the nice man was returning it…"

The woman looked afraid and didn't seem to understand until Nicky nodded and stared at his other hand. The ancient Chinese woman finally saw her purse and snatched it from him and then struck him swiftly with her umbrella several times while screaming at him in Mandarin.

"Problem…?" a voice asked from behind Nicky, she had gathered the attention of a transit cop.

Bourne cautioned, "You need to get out of here, you can't have him report this."

Nicky blinked at the cop, "No problem officer… This nice man just slipped and I was helping him up… right?" she asked the hood whom she still held in an arm bar who nodded rapidly.

"Both of you step over here…" he motioned against the wall as he grabbed the man's other arm.

"Great," muttered Bourne as he tried to determine if he was dreaming or hallucinating.

"Are you sure you don't want to press charges?"

"No officer, I think he learned his lesson…"

"That was pretty impressive. I was following him. I figured he was up to no good. I saw everything…" he eyes flashed for a split second to Nicky's left hand which was gloved.

She didn't miss the glance either and nervously pulled her glove off and held up her hand, showing the lack of a wedding band. "Cold hands…" she murmured as she blushed nervously.

"Here," he held out his hand. She took his hand and he rubbed his hands on hers as Nicky looked at his naked ring finger.

"Wow, you have warm hands…" she fawned as both Bourne and the crook rolled their eyes incredulously.

"You," he eyed the thug, "this is your lucky day. Get out of here…" he advised and the man retreated.

"Yeah, only because you're looking to get lucky…" Bourne fumed as Nicky bit her lip in a clear sign of anticipation of that very thing. "Great, now I know I'm not dreaming… Male inadequacy was never a weak point of mine…"

The lawman continued, "…so, you already have plans tonight?"

"Tonight, yes… but I might be able to fit you in later…?"

Jason huffed, "That totally sounded like a 'size does matter' inquiry Parsons…" to which she smirked."Wait… can you hear me…?" He thought for a moment, "Your hair is sticking out on the left side and looks horrible…" he tried as a test. She reached up and tucked it in.

The policeman pulled out his card and gave it to her, "Well, I'd love it if you could…"

"Oh my God…! Seriously Nicky? You do remember there are people trying to kill you right? Take the card and go…" She smiled coyly and took the card before leaving. It wasn't until later that she realized that she hadn't even told him her name.

Bourne numbly followed her out of the subway station contemplating his predicament. "So, I'm dead…? I don't remember getting out of the river… because I never did," he said hauntingly. He saw her looking at the card blushing again and smiling brightly. Having enough of the subject he snapped, "What was that with Captain America back there? I just remembered you telling me you like Latin and Italian men? Damn, I'm not even cold yet!"

The light on the street corner changed but she didn't move with the rest of the crowd. He looked over and her face was pale and she was trembling on the verge of breaking down in hysteria. "Hey I'm sorry… I didn't mean it. You can't lose it now. You have to be strong like me… Set your jaw. I said clench your jaw, it helps." She did and took a deep breath and held it.

"Look, there is a hotdog guy over there… you need to eat something. We are right by the park, buy something and grab a bench. She did as he asked and Jason was surprised that the vendor didn't make her pay, he just smiled and told her to keep her chin up and that it would all be over in a week? Jason lustfully watched her eat, "I wouldn't have taken you for a 'kraut kinda girl…" She ate the dog ravenously and Jason could swear he could almost feel his stomach growl. Her face was a mess when she was done and she dutifully wiped it and threw her trash away as she left the park.

She walked with a firm determination for several long blocks. Her pace was fast and her shoulders square. "There's the businesswoman we know and love..." They went to a café where she sat inside near a window and was more interested in what was going on outside than her cappuccino.

He finally saw she was watching one building more than the others. "There? You need to go in there?" He squinted trying to read the sign and suddenly he was in front of the building without walking. He looked at the sign; it was a moving and storage company. He looked in every direction and saw no sign of surveillance. He thought about going to the café and was there again. "Okay there is nothing overt, but we should do a walk by then later a drive by before coming back later."

He followed her over to 41st and backtracked a block until they reached a storage facility. They hailed a cab and then drove around the area for awhile. "Okay, we are good on the outside. Once you go in you need to get in and out as fast as you can, in less than five minutes if possible…"

She entered without difficulty and then walked to a desolate section of the storage facility, obviously in a section for long time tenants. Bourne took notice of the dust on the high grade pad lock before she started opening it. "I didn't like the look of the guy at the desk; he stared at you too long… He might be dropping the dime on you, hurry…"

She rolled up the door and he saw it was a fairly large unit that was filled to overflowing by things covered with sheets. She picked up a flashlight near the door and checked the batteries. She then lifted one of the sheets that was covering an antique table and crawled under it, lowering the sheet behind her. Bourne followed her as she crawled through a tiny maze in the furniture until she reached the back corner of the unit.

"You know this was pretty smart. I wouldn't have thought about doing this, putting the important things in the back. I just remembered that my brother and I used to build sheet forts when we were kids… hell I just remembered that I have a brother," he laughed. "We'd hang string across the room and put sheets over them to make ceilings and walls." They arrived at their destination and he saw she had a queen sized mattress lying on the ground that was fully made. "You aren't going to stay here are you?" She grabbed a backpack and checked the contents then did the same with a laptop bag. She took a few items from the back pack she was wearing and left the old one there.

She reached under the pillow and pulled out a holstered pistol and checked the magazine. She stared at the gun in her small hands and he said gently, "You know you will need it, I'm sorry Nicolette…" She shoved it and some spare clips in the backpack and turned to leave, but then stopped abruptly.

She picked up a dusty picture frame that was by the mattress and wiped it off. It was a picture of them both at a costume party, a company party from the looks of it. He recognized Alexander Conklin doubled over in the background in laughter as was everyone else. Bourne was dressed as Snoopy and was on all fours being choked by his leash as she was yanking him across the room. She was dressed as Charlie Brown. He saw her bald head and he remembered, "You had cancer……" he said slowly."Breast cancer… They told you, a week before this was taken, that it was terminal… the mastectomy and the chemotherapy didn't work. Later Conklin pulled in a careers worth of favors to get you in an experimental drug program, it saved your life." She giggled looking at the picture and suddenly he got the joke, "a dog and his master… an asset and his handler. It's the only picture of us together; I never would pose for any, it was too big of a risk to you," he mumbled guiltily. "You should take it; you can never come back here Nicky. Not ever."

She stuffed it into her bag, made her way out of the unit, and locked it behind her. Instead of going the way they came she went the other direction, turned the corner and walked to the end of the hall to the fire door. She popped the cover off of the exit alarm wiring and then put it back. "You disabled it already. That a girl."

She was grinning as she stepped into the alleyway and into the glaring sunlight and made her way across the street and back down to the cafe. She bought a prepaid cell phone from a corner store on the way and a hot chocolate from the café.

Bourne was staring out the window watching the building and looked over when he heard typing, Nicky was surfing beauty salons. He shook his head but let her dalliance pass, he had bullied her enough and was willing to give her a moment of peace. Nicky dialed a number and said, "Yes, I'd like to set an appointment today, uh-huh yeah, I know… but thought you might have some cancellations. Two? Great are they with the same girl? Great I'll take them both, the others for my mom…" Bourne's head jerk around at that. "No, it's okay that they aren't back to back. Better actually, I'll take the first one at 10. It's Constance. The 4 o'clock is for my mom Pamela Landy…"

He leaned closer as if he could be overheard, "Pam? You're going to contact Pam?"

"Okay, thanks a lot. Oh, who is it with? Betty? Okay, I'll make it worth her while… Thanks, you too…!"

She had been holding the phone to her opposite ear, when she lowered it he saw that it was hooked to her computer and she quickly hit the call button on a computer program that was running. He hadn't seen that program before, but understood what she was doing, "You're ghosting the phone number in case they check it out. Clever girl…" he said which made her smile.

He heard the computer dial a number; it was on speaker this time. It rang five times and she was about to hang up as someone picked up on the other end. "Pamela Landy…"

Nicky intoned in her best high school girl voice, "ye-ah, Mrs. Lindy… this is Nicole at Beauty Before Bills calling to remind you of your appointment tonight at 4 o'clock for a Full Monty…"

There was a brief silence where Bourne wondered if Pam was going to ignorantly miss the ruse before she finally answered, "I'm glad you called, I forgot that was today. That was with my usual girl right?"

"Let me check…" Nicky waited fifteen seconds. "Yes, you are down for Betty and she is working today."

"Thanks, I'll be there…" and the line went dead. Nicky unplugged the phone from the laptop and pulled the battery from the phone.

She was almost done packing up the rest of her gear when Bourne muttered, "Damn, I knew it…" Her head jerked up in time to see Nigel Ward, the asset from earlier get out of a van and walk towards the storage building. "The desk clerk sold you out."

"Do you have a tracer? You should wire the van…" She grabbed a small black box from the laptop bag and headed for the door. She tossed the phone in the trash and walked across the street. "What are you waiting for?" he asked at her hesitation as she peered at the van apprehensively. "Oh, there is no one in it. They work alone… they always work alone……" at which she quickly approached the van and stuck the magnetic box under the rear panel.

She quickly walked in the other direction at a rapid pace, "Okay you can slow down a bit, you look suspicious…" He turned to look at her and she was gone- she had stopped entirely in front of a church. She suddenly turned to go in, "What now…" He went to follow her and saw a sign on the door for midnight mass.

He found her inside the door lighting candles and mumbling a name each time, some were for her relatives others for names that sounded familiar. He knew Danny Zorn's name as well as Conklin's. The last one she lit went unnamed.

"Midnight mass… it's Christmas Eve, that's why everyone is being nice…" He listened as the choir started to practice silent night. Finally she said very softly, "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this. I should've gone with him in Paris. It should have been me… Merry Christmas Marie……" she turned and left in stubborn resoluteness leaving a stunned Bourne staring at the last candle.

 

 

 


	2. One way or another

Chapter 2

 

Pamela Landy had gone into the Beauty Before Bills day spa figuring that she would either meet Bourne or Nicky inside, which was the furthest thing from the truth. She had been made to endure the 'Full Monty' at the beautician's insistence. She said Nicky had been very explicit about her going through the entire gambit of services. She had been poked, prodded, waxed, scrubbed, and 'massaged' (tenderized) for almost three hours. When she was done she wasn't sure which she felt more like: a Treadstone asset being initiated or the hull of a garbage scow after it had been sandblasted and covered in resin.

Only when she was finished with the massage did they give her a sealed envelope. It contained a letter that read: 'Change clothes into what the girl gives you, leave everything else in the bag. Give your bag of old clothing to the girl. Leave and walk south.' The girl took her phone and the bag of her old clothes and set it next to a voice recorder playing a recording of a massage from earlier in the day. They thought she was bugged?

She stepped out into the night and the girl- Betty whispered, "You have a very kind Master. I hope you both have a nice Christmas… She's cute too, God this is romantic…" She turned abruptly at the awkwardness that she created and walked north.

'Master?' she shook her head, Nicky had to tell them something. What else could have explained such odd behavior? They were CIA agents that had burn notices on them and are ordered to be shot on site? At least she knew it was Nicky and not Bourne she was meeting. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse, probably worse.

How long was she supposed to walk? Apparently until her feet froze off. At least they had gotten her hiking style clothes, even if they were all black. If she were still wearing her normal clothes she might have lost her feet from frostbite. She had been walking and half stumbling on wobbly legs for over an hour. It was snowing heavily and the temperature sign on the nearby bank said it was fifteen degrees below but it may as well have been fifty below.

An hour ago she had passed a street vendor selling hot pretzels and coco. She was glad now that she had purchased one of each, but the heat afforded by them was long gone. Now it was coming up on eight o'clock and the streets were clearing out, everyone was going to be with loved ones.

She saw activity ahead and laughed inwardly, knowing what it was. 'Music' and laughter were issuing out of a bar located in the basement of one of the buildings. It was a punk bar in the late 70's and apparently still was; if the patrons that were leaving were any indication. Most people would see the three girls coming towards her as prime examples of the decline of our times. Landy had seen a punk band there in '74, so the decline started over three decades ago and these three ladies were new to the party. When she had met the band back stage she had no idea that the Ramones would become Rock Icons.

She laughed at how square she must look to those girls; if they only knew... The three had tattoos all over their arms, a dozen piercings in their ears and a few more on their faces. All were scantily clad in cut off jeans or short skirts with ripped up hose and corsets for shirts. Two were wearing sunglasses straight out of the eighties and the other had on black lipstick and enough mascara to outfit a bus load of teenage girls. The two with glasses had hair, one was eights glam and the other a tall green Mohawk, the one with the mascara was bald and Pam was distracted by the steam jetting off of her exposed scalp. She would lay down money on all three of them dying of exposure before reaching the subway.

The bald girl was recounting a story to the other two and bumped into Pam as she passed, "Watch it grandma!"

Pam half turned with her Glock drawn stupidly thinking she was being attacked, before silently slipping the gun back and continuing onward. Her gun had been in her hand the whole trip in her ungloved right hand. She looked back again, but the three kept walking. She could count on one hand the number times the gun had been drawn the past year, but now it had been in her hand for an hour and she was deriving more heat from its Pachmayr grips than her clothing.

Another sixty seconds went by and Pam heard a cell phone ring. Knowing that she didn't have one she whipped around with her gun out while simultaneity ducking. She saw… nothing; nothing at all. It rang again and she realized that it was coming from her left pocket. She put the gun back and answered the phone, "Hello?"

A snarky female voice replied, "Nice draw Grandma. Go around the block and then into the bar."

Pam heard her pull the phone away to hang up and blurted, "They won't let me in there!"

"They can and they will, go to the front- you're on 'the list'. Remember to smile and wave…" and the line disconnected.

"Great… I swear this is feeling like Candid Camera. I'm beginning to think that girl hates me!"

She went to the front of the long line and nodded to the doorman who immediately lifted the rope and extend his hand. She took his hand and he walked her down three treacherous steps and opened a door to a stairwell that only went down. "I have always been a huge fan ma'am. For you- the drinks are on the house, anything you want!"

She nodded curtly at being treated like a queen by someone that looked like he slept in a cell last night. She walked down the stairs and into the club and didn't have to wonder long what Parsons had told them. A spot light trained on her and the singer on stage announced, "Oi! To help us celebrate our thirtieth Christmas- Ms. Deborah Harry!"

The crowd of now friendly miscreants was very polite and cleared a path and approached one or two at a time at most to shake her hand, but Pam refused to pose for pictures. Figuring that she was supposed to order a drink, she started working her way to the main bar when suddenly she felt an iron like grip on her forearm as she was half lifted and half pushed through the crowd.

As Pam craned her neck to look behind her she expected to see Bourne but got Parsons; her heart sank. Her odds of getting out of this alive were falling through the floor. "Move, keep walking to the rear…" Pam had figured Nicky had been the bald girl that bumped into her, she was wrong. Nicky had been the girl with the Mohawk, which was green and standing at attention.

Bourne laughed at Nicky and instructed, "Don't ask her… just move her, it's not unlike driving a car. I thought you would've mastered this by now…" he joked. Landy watched as Nicky pulled off her mirrored aviator glasses and let them drop to the ground.

She steered them to the rear fire door and Nicky pointed to a chair, "Sit… stay!" Without waiting to see if Landy would listen, Nicky made her way back through the crowd and stood next to a pedestal that a bouncer was standing on. She saw the bouncer give Nicky a thumb up motion as he surveyed the crowd.

Nicky stripped her cut up jean jacket off and threw it in the trash, leaving her in a black fishnet top and white bra which glowed in the black light. She pulled off her fake piercings and Pam saw her reach up and roll down what looked like nude pantyhose from her arms which had been emblazoned with fake tattoos.

Something clicked and Landy suddenly understood why Nicky brought her here, no one would be able to come in here without being easily spotted. No-one could snap their fingers and look like they belonged here. Just as she thought that this was the best possible place to meet and not be overheard or watched, Nicky returned looking completely different than before. Sans piercings and tattoos, plus with her Mohawk tucked under a beret, she looked half way normal.

"Come on… Now! We're leaving." She grabbed Landy by the forearm and turned her.

"You can ask me to move Nicky."

"The problem is I might not have time to ask when it really matters…"

"Oh," she mumbled numbly.

"I want you to get the door, but keep your head down and get in the limo…" Nicky popped an umbrella open, to which Landy nodded. "Not you, them…." Nicky pointed to two girls who had walked up behind her, Landy recognized them as the two girls from the street only now they were in clothes that matched hers and Nicky's.

The two twenty-something year olds nodded happily. "Like… this is SO awesome. It's nice meeting you Ms. Harry!" "My memaw isn't going to believe this!" the second girl gushed as she shook Pam's hand. Nicky motioned them out the door but made sure they weren't visible from the ally. She saw the two girls climb into the Limo waiting in the alley and Nicky saw it speed away as instructed.

"Come on…" Pam felt herself being yanked again and was led through a different fire door, this one went upstairs. They passed two men that were making out in the stairwell, both of which smirked at the two women, who had their hands on their weapons. Nicky took her up six flights to the apartment portion of the building that was above this.

Nicky opened the fire door, having once again tampered with it during her preparation. She walked quickly down the apartment hallway, her eyes scanning everything for any changes as Jason whispered in her ear unnecessarily, “Everything is clean. All of your markers are in place; no one has been in or out, hurry!”

Nicky rushed to a door at the end of the hall and opened it, ushering Pam in. “Don’t turn on the lights.” The apartment was dimly lit by lights on the Christmas tree.

“Nice place,” Pam said out of habit.

“I thought so…”

“…and the owners are…” she asked suspiciously.

“Decomposing in the basement,” Nicky spit acerbically. “Sorry, it’s been a long week. As far as I can tell they are in Florida seeing their parents. We should be fine here for awhile. We both need to sleep and the closest thing I’ve seen to a shower in the past week has been the handicap stalls in airports and bus stations.”

"How do you know them?"

"I don't. The mail box is an antique; it has glass so you can see the mail. Theirs was full," she pointed to a pile of mail by the door.

“You honestly expect me to be able to sleep?” Pam offered halfheartedly, in truth she was really tired.

“Yes, you should eat and sleep as much as you can. There is no telling when you’ll get another chance. Mind if I get the shower first?” Nicky asked but started to leave without waiting for a response.

“No, go ahead. I’ll check the kitchen…”

“Lights out, no TV…”

“Yes, mom…” Pam said waspishly after Nicky closed the bedroom door. Pam went to the kitchen but found the refrigerator empty and cabinets were almost as bad. She heard the shower start and wondered silently about her failure to mention Bourne. It would have been cruel to ask her before they were someplace safe. Since Nicky hadn’’t asked Pam for news, that meant that she knew his fate already.

Leaving the kitchen she noticed a flashing light on the desk, it was from a charging light on a laptop. Jason saw Pam glance at the door, “Yeah Pam, like she left it unlocked- the laptop or the door. Seriously…” She walked over and opened the computer and saw the log on prompt.

She turned to leave and nearly tripped over Nicky's backpack. She sat quickly in the desk chair and dug through the pack. "You're wasting your time in there…" he sighed. The only oddities she found were the photograph and a water bra. All of her passports, weapons, and electronic equipment had been either on her or in her laptop bag which wasn't in plain view.

"I don't think it's your size, you’re a 38C…" Nicky said in such a stinging tone that Pam dropped the undergarment she was still holding. Nicky was standing in the doorway fuming, still dripping wet and clutching a robe around her. She had forgotten to take her clothes with her.

"I'm sorry I was…" Pam muttered while gawking at her now completely bald head.

"Just rooting through my things? God..." she strode forward and snatched her things before storming off. Bourne and Landy stared at the wet puddles of her footprints she had left in her wake.

"Well no one saw that one coming nosey Nelly. What kind of spy are you anyway? You can’t even listen for a shower turning off."

Nicky was gone for an uncomfortably long period of time, to the point that Jason went to check on her without meaning to; he materialized next to her as she was putting makeup on. He was transfixed on her reflection in the circular pattern she wiped in the mirrors condensation. Suddenly her mouth was agape and he realized she was looking at his mist covered reflection; she spun in shock and fear, to see no one standing there. Turning to the mirror again, she wiped away a large swath and saw a green robe hanging in the background.

She sighed, “You’re coming apart at the seams… Hold it together girl.”

“Nicky! I’m here! Hey!” he bellowed. He suddenly felt dizzy, as if he was going to faint. He felt the world swirling around him and fading to black. “No! I’m not ready! Not yet, I need more time!” The more he fought to stay the faster it went as though he were trapped in spiritual quicksand until at last there was nothing left of Jason Bourne and Nicky Parsons shuddered from a sudden chill.

After dressing in day clothes including sneakers, she flung open the door and began to rant, “I’m going to help you get papers tomorrow and then you’re on your own…” but the apartment was eerily quiet. Nicky pulled out her gun, although she knew if it was an asset she would be dead already. “Pam,” she tried harmlessly as she had already given herself away. After sweeping the apartment and finding it vacant, she stood for a moment wonder what to do as if she were going to be inspired. She remembered what Jason had told her in Spain at the bus station, ‘‘if something feels wrong: it is. Get out! Move on and don’t look back. Are you listening to me?’

She stuffed her gun in its holster and quickly grabbed her laptop and her two bags and rushed to the bedroom and opened the bedroom window she had staged as her exit plan. She had one foot on the fire escape when she heard Pam's cautious voice, "Nicky?"

Hesitating in the window for a moment she bit her lip before climbing back in and drawing her weapon. She moved cat footedly though the apartment and heard rustling from the kitchen. She swept the rooms as she went and as she approached the kitchen Pam rounded the corner, "Nicky…" and stopped short as she saw the gun less than a foot from her face, which wasn't lowered.

"Where were you?"

"I was getting dinner," she snipped.

"You left?"

"No, delivery and I had them deliver to apartment 2A and then went down stairs to wait. Are you going to lower the gun or are you going to shoot me?"

Nicky held her ground and didn't know why. She was unsure of what to do and knew that Jason would know. Something caught her nose and finally she slowly lowered the gun, still wary of the woman whom had drug her back into all of this. She sniffed again, "Chinese?"

"Yeah, I ordered a bunch of things; I wasn't sure what you liked."

"Don't ever do anything like that again. I risked a lot by trying to help you."

"Is that what this is? I wasn't sure what your deal was."

"Whistle blowers usually end up dead. Here, look for yourself…" She walked to her computer and typed in a log password. Pam saw a split second of a map of New York before she brought up Landy's file, but it was different from the one Pam could normally bring up.

"Are those links to surveillance logs?"

"Yeah, they've been casing you since before you kidnapped me in Amsterdam."

"I didn't kidnap you."

"Sure you did." She intoned in her best Italian accent, "'Just when I thought I was out, you pulled me back in!' But, it's too late to argue the point; I am the walking dead and so are you." She pointed to a star icon with MM next to it.

"What is that?"

"The star is a kill order. The MM denotes that it's to look like a suicide. Let's see who they sent after you…"

"MM? Is that for Marilyn Monroe? That's what the gossip rags use to shorten her name to."

"Hmm… I didn't know that… probably. Ah, here… Paz Carrasco. He is Chilean but was implanted in the Czech Republic and worked the Eastern Bloc." She started sifting through his file.

"He's cute…" Landy laughed in a rare display of humor. But, Nicky heard the wavering in her voice and knew she was near a breaking point of hysteria. Pam had more iron in her than Vladimir Lenin but everyone had a tipping point.

"They are all very attractive; the men and the woman. One of the many job perks I had… lots of eye candy. Paz fancies himself as a better lover, than a fighter. He doesn't like killing women or kids though. Most don't care, they are trained not to. His handler didn't have an option, Paz was in New York already; he was after Bourne."

"Kids?" Landy sounded aghast. "Why would they order a child to be killed?"

"…for lots of different reasons. Let's say Albert Einstein is locked up in a bunker below a mountain in Iran and you can't get to him…"

"So, then they kill him at the funeral?"

"No. Sometimes he might kill himself though, but at the very least his work will suffer for months. It will slow down the project or possibly ruin it if he makes too many mistakes. They call it division by subtraction."

"Jesus…"

"Yeah, they aren't above anything." She paused suddenly, "Please tell me you didn't call anyone…"

Pam reared her head back, "No. I'm not a fool Nicky." They both heard Nicky's stomach grumble noisily in protest of being denied the Chinese food; its aroma was now permeating the room. "Come on. Let's eat before someone thinks the building is haunted."

The two women ate in silence and Nicky had third helpings. She saw the picture of her and Bourne on the desk where Pam had left it after she was caught snooping. Crossing the room, she collected it and looked at it briefly before stuffing it resolutely into her bag.

"Nicky, I'm sorry for insinuating in Amsterdam that you had a thing with Bourne. As a professional woman, I know what comments like that are like and it was inappropriate."

Nicky smiled faintly, "Well you were right. There was something more there." She laughed hollowly, "He could always make me laugh, even when nothing else could," she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear before she remembered she was bald. "I need to go out for a bit. Stay here and stay quiet. I should be back by 3 AM. If I'm not back by six then open this and get the hell out of here. Do whatever it says," she handed Pam a thick envelope. "Don't open it before then. Got it?"

"Yeah, where are you going?"

Nicky needlessly checked her weapon magazine and made sure there was a round chambered. "To see an old friend…"

 

 


	3. Going out with a big bang

Chapter 3

 

After Nicky left, Pam tried to stay awake but quickly succumbed to the exhaustion and her full stomach. She slept better than she had in months. She had felt uneasy for a long time. Now that she knew people were watching her in her home and following her everywhere she could understand why she was jittery.

Suddenly Jason Bourne snapped awake and looked around. "What happened?" He tried to touch the coffee table and his hand went through it. "Damn…" Suddenly he looked to his left and saw Pam's eyes snap open in alarm. "What, can you hear me too?"

Pam had been deep in REM sleep when suddenly she snapped awake, having heard something. She saw that Nicky had silently returned at some point. She was curled up in a fetal position on the love seat staring at the lights on the Christmas tree. "It's okay Pam," she whispered. "It's the kids upstairs opening gifts and playing, it's 5am. Go back to sleep…"

Pam closed her eyes but couldn't go back to sleep. Every so often she would open her eyes and see that the girl was still starring at the tree, as if she would never see another one and Pam suddenly wondered if either of them would. On that note she knew sleep was now futile, Pam slowly got up and stretched, "Coffee, tea, coco?"

"Coffee…"

"So, how did your visit with your friend go?"

Bourne's head jerked up at this, "Friend? Jesus, what did you do Nicky? Where did you go?"

She shrugged, "Fine."

Jason turned to Pam, "Come on… pry. We need to know what's going on."

Pam began, "Don't you think… It was risky to contact someone?"

"Of course it is. We are going to do it again today. We need ID's."

Bourne snapped, "You can make those!"

"I can make the ID's and passports but it's riskier for me to put them in the system. A friend can get us birth certificates, credit cards, credit scores, tax records… a whole history. All of them legitimate looking and all in the national system. I used to be able to do it all but I don't have the access to that."

"But, anyone you know will be under surveillance."

"Pam's right. This is nuts."

"He isn't CIA though, very much the opposite. He is…very… quirky. He is very antigovernment. I have never actually met him either, just someone I know from the web. We can trust him."

Pam reared her head back, "He is one of those 9/11 conspiracy guys isn't he?"

She laughed, "Probably. Look, I think it's your best chance. I have ID's to fall back on. You don't."

Bourne scoffed, "Well then set her up to meet the guy. Let her risk it…"

"I can't let you go alone," Nicky said matter of factly. "You helped Bourne get the word out and we owe you for that…"

The three of them stood in silence for a long time. "Okay," Nicky said at last, "let's have a big breakfast, pack some Chinese for lunch and wipe this place down. We need to leave everything as we found it. We can't come back here…"

The two women went to work cooking and then cleaning the apartment. After making sure that everything was exactly as they found it they left and Nicky put the mail back in the mail box on the way out. "I took it so if an asset checked; they wouldn't know the apartment was empty, like I did…"

They hailed a cab and they drove around the city for an hour, pretending to site see. They left that cab and hailed another one and took it to a store front. After exiting the cab, Nicky took them down an alleyway to the rear of what appeared to be a catholic church.

Bourne stated expertly, "This is the same church as yesterday… You were really vetting the place when you came here?"

She walked past the church and to an apartment building. She walked down a narrow flight of steps in the back and pressed a buzzer on an intercom. They heard the buzz from within and heard faint movement beyond the door, but nothing else happened. She pressed the mic button, "Come on, it's me Nicolette!"

*Silence*

"Hayden, don't make me do it…"

*Silence*

Nicky sighed as both Pam and Jason raised eye brows in tandem, "It is I, Nicoleodeon, who has come to the gates of the Crystal Castle seeking Gordoor: the Immense and Indefinable. I come here to pay homage and tribute to his Lordship and seek the safety and solace of his fiefdom."

When she turned to face Pam her face was scarlet with embarrassment, "Longest code in process ever…" She shifted back and forth not unlike a small child that needed to go to the bathroom.

A voice crackled over the intercom, {I have the flu…}

"Sorry to hear it, I have my shots though. Come on let me in… It's cold out here!"

{I'm sick…}

"No… no, no! I did the greeting thing. Come on…"

{I have all day Nicky…}

Nicky blushed more fiercely and cleared her throat. She whispered into the speaker, which just drew Pam and Jason closer to her. In a sing-song voice she intoned, "Sweet kitty… soft kitty…."

{I can barely hear you! Sing louder…}

"Sweet kitty… soft kitty…. little ball of fur… Happy kitty… sleepy kitty… Purr Purr Purr…"

{Where did we first meet?}

"The Un'Goro Crater! Oh my God! Let me in damn it!"

They heard a second male voice say, {It's her damn it. I'll let you in Nic…} as they heard a long series of locks being opened.

A short but stocky man was on the other side of the door; he couldn't have been more the 5'5 and both women, who were on the steps, towered over him. "Hey you!" he greeted warmly and they hugged deeply. "Sorry about him," he waved his hand dismissively. "He isn't in a good mood. He is twitchier when he's sick…" Noticing Pam for the first time, "Oh, who is your…" and suddenly he went ridged and his eyes widened, which looked ridiculous behind his thick Buddy Holly glasses."Does he know she's here?!?"

Nicky shook her head, "I need to get her ID's in the system and her out of the country…"

From inside the room the other voice called, "Well let her in. You can try in vain to fornicate with her later; I have to get to work!"

The little man grimaced knowing the onslaught to come and ushered them in and took his sweet time relocking the ten locks on the door.

Nicky rounded the corner and greeted the strange looking man, "Hayden…" she nodded. He looked more like a praying mantis than a man: being very tall and skinny and there was something about his face that added to the mystique, his large wide set eyes and very narrow jaw perhaps.

"I wish I could say it was nice to meet you Nicolette, but you are quite aware of the ubiquitousness of our modern world. Meeting in person is hardly…Wait who goes there?" he queried at seeing Pam.

"This is…" Nicky began.

He gasped, "That's Pamela Landy! You brought a CIA mole hunter into my inner sanctum! Have you been replaced by a pod person?!? What the hell are you thinking…?"

"Our inner sanctum, I pay half the egregious rent…" the little man corrected, passing the two women.

Pam looked the tall man up and down; he was dressed in a silly looking knitted hat that was yellow and orange, a superman shirt, green jeans, and pink rabbit slippers. Over the ghastly outfit he was wearing a quilt that he had draped about him. He was clutching a tissue and his nose was cherry red from blowing it.

Nicky must have been sizing him up as well, "Love the skull cap. It's Jayne's from Firefly right? Did you order it online?"

He looked appalled, "Heavens no. My Memaw made it for me for Christmas."

Pam interjected, "What does that mean, Memaw? The girl said that last night…"

Nicky tried to keep him from speaking but failed as he shouted over her, "It's a Southern colloquialism. It's a term of endearment for ones Grandmother… specifically your maternal grandmother."

"Oh," Pam muttered suddenly feeling old.

Jason paced around the large room which once served as the coal room for the old apartment building and was now the basement. Computers, TVs, monitors, and wiring covered everything. Most of the furniture looked worn out and had probably been thrown out by at least two owners. There was an old military bunk bed in one corner and a tub, sink, and toilet in the other. Both had pull curtains surrounding them similar to hospital beds. Comic book and movie posters covered the walls and toy ship models from Sci-Fi movies hung from the ceiling on wires. "Are you sure about this guy Nicky, he's real twitchy…" he said slowly.

"Hayden… Look," Pam said calmly. "We need your help, we are both burned…"

"As you should be for being in bed with the devil… You reap what you sow ma'am…"

Nicky interjected "So you're just a bunch of talk? All this crap in here," she waved a hand to all the superhero and Lord of the Rings posters around the room, "your clothes, the passwords, it is all just a game to you. You're a poser of the worst order. You are nothing like Superman," she poked his shirt, "hell you aren't even Aquaman."

Landy smiled knowing what Nicky was doing. Pam tilted her head and looked down on him as she threw in, "Hell, he isn't even the little chimp that used to schlepp around with the Wonder Twins!"

He recoiled in abstract horror, "Gleek? Leon, she said I was SubGleek!"

Leon laughed and replied, "He gets upset when he is spotted straight off."

Pam continued on her rant as though no one had spoken, "So, two women come to you," there was a fraction of a second of a pause where she adjusted her wording, "who are in peril and you would turn your back on us Hayden?"

Bourne made a "pfft" noise and laughed loudly, "Nice move Pam, I like you… you're alright."

"Why is she calling me that?"

Nicky laughed, "I didn't say Hayden Pam; I was saying Hey 'Den.

"His name is Den?" she scoffed. "Remind me to choose my new name…"

"I'm right here and no, she is truncating my name to Don and then mispronouncing it because she knows it annoys me…"

"So, your name is Donald?" Pam inquired.

"I said truncated; not abbreviated. My name is Gordon not Gorden. For the record I never said I wouldn't help, I was merely asking what you were doing here… I could've helped you through my emissary," he motioned to Leon.

Nicky and Bourne said simultaneously, "Emissary?"

Leon stoically clutched the lapels of his hoodie in his best rendition of Lincoln, "It sounds like a promotion from 'minion', so I'll take it…"

Nicky held up a bag, "I brought you Hot and Sour soup, extra hot sauce on the side, an extra fortune cookie, and three packs of soy sauce…"

He craned his head and tried in vain to sniff the air through clogged nostrils, "Extra tofu?"

"Yep…"

"It's a start… give me…" he said as he snatched the bag and suspiciously eyed it's contents."It's getting cold. What do you need?" he said as he unpacked the food.

"Here's our paperwork, we need them in the system with full work ups, credit reports, bank accounts, the works…"

He flipped through the stack and absently eyed Landy as she paced the room, but she was cautious not to touch anything. "What do you offer as far as trade?" he glared at her from the corner of his eye.

"My Warcraft account for starters…"

Leon stumbled backwards, "Nicoleodeon? You're trading him Nicoleodeon? Is it too late for an annulment of our WoW vows?"

Bourne looked at them back and forth, "Wow Parsons… I knew you were a geek, but this is wholesale intervention time."

"…and?" he pressed.

"Gordon, come on!" Leon pleaded.

"An integrated laptop and CIA token ID generator…" at which everyone's mouth fell open.

Bourne hissed, "That's treason Nicky…"

She shrugged at them all, "It's all I have. What are they going to do shoot me twice?"

He held his head high, "It's not enough…"

"I have money…"

"I abhor currency, you know that…" he said proudly.

She frowned, "I have this…" She took a necklace off and held it out with a shaking hand.

He leaned in and looked at it, "A diamond ring?" Everyone else turned or leaned forward to look. Bourne strode over from the far side of the room and looked at it. "Did James Bond give you that?"

"No," she said flatly.

'Liar,' Landy muttered so low only Leon heard her.

"Yes, I did." Bourne said having a flash of a memory from when he purchased it.

"No," she reaffirmed. "He never got the chance…" she said with a trembling voice.

He reached out his hand and took the ring and looked at it, "I'm sorry Nicky, but no…"

She frowned and shoulders and head sagged as a week's worth of despair fell upon her. She had been trying to hold it together and was beyond frayed nerves. Bourne blurted in his ear, "You asshole!"

"No, I'm sorry…" he continued, putting the necklace carefully around her neck without touching her skin."I could never take anything from you… You should know better Nicky Parsons! I just wanted clarification on exactly how dire the situation is. It seems pretty dire!"

"Oh it is…" she nodded vigorously.

"So, I trust this isn't going to become a routine?"

"No… I mean yes. No?"

"Well this many IDs will take me around three hours…"

"Three hours?!?" Pam scoffed.

He reared his head back in offense, "This many ID's takes time. Not only credit, but medical and legal histories too. There must be blemishes or they'll see through the rouse."

Pam held up her hands in surrender, "Okay sorry… Better get started, then."

After an hour everyone, including Jason, grew bored and he often left to patrol the outside of the building. Pam asked to borrow Leon's bunk and was snoring almost immediately. Nicky was quietly discussing an old text based murder mystery game made by the makers of Zork that she could never beaten called Deadline. "No," Leon told her, "you couldn't beat it because you didn't buy it. No one bought games back then. The manufacturers came up with a crafty means of copy write protection. They had items and clues in the box with the game that made it solvable. It was impossible otherwise… I can tell you the killer was…"

"Don't you dare!" she said loud enough to rouse Pam.

He laughed, "I was just fooling around. Here I put it on disc for you along with photos of the inserts and an emulator."

She nodded, "Thank you. That game drove me crazy."

"Well now you'll have something to keep you busy in all the seedy motels and during long layovers."

She nodded to Gordon who busy hammering away at two different keyboards at once with the ethereal Bourne watching him like a hawk and offering advice here and there, "How good is he really?" she whispered to Leon.

Gordon answered loudly, "Good enough to break into SAC NORAD with an Apple 2."

Bourne looked impressed until Leon scoffed, "It was one terminal and it was in 1982!"

"Both of with are irrelevant," he said smugly.

"The guy's password was 12345…"

"Also irrelevant… also not my fault… Well the CIA cyber crimes division does use me for tech support…"

Leon laughed, "Okay that is true and very funny… He uploaded notepad Help files into selective folders with tips on how to run their systems in a more efficient manner… He included a helpline number if they needed assistance. They call him daily now."

"Ughhh," Pam protested and groggily sat up.

Leon watched as Nicky took off her wig and rubbed her scalp. He looked at her bald skull and nodded to it. She smiled, "No. This time it's a fashion statement. I think I will wear it to Comic Con as Lieutenant Ilia slash V-ger."

"Well you would win best in show…"

"Here ladies… your first set is complete."

He handed Nicky two packets and Pam one and they busily started going over the details. Nicky was reading over the last of her background and was about to object to having been the owner of someplace called 'Fox Tales,' then saw her name was Gillian Fox and laughed. It sounded like the name of a strip club but was actually a bookstore. "Great name Gordon. Gillian Fox as in: Gillian Anderson and Fox Molder? You know you're not the only person that's seen…" but she interrupted when her laptop chirped.

She jerked it open and her worst fear was realized as she saw the blip of her pursuer only a block and a half away. "Shit! We're burned, everyone out!" Nicky shouted as she slammed her laptop bag and jammed it into her bag along with her ID's. Everyone looked on in a mixture of disbelief and horror as she ran to the door and started undoing the locks.

Gordon grabbed his laptop bag and handed it to Leon, "Get this out of here. I'll catch you later at our Tuesday spot. I have to burn it down…" He took the bag and his without questioning and shoved Nicky out of the way and started fooling with the dozen locks.

Bourne tried to grab Nicky's forearm out of habit, but passed right through it. "Come on, you're wasting time…" Nicky finally shouldered the rear door open and yanked Leon by the arm, "Move! Pam, go with Gordon- get out of the country… This one is after me, not you. Good luck…"

As soon as Nicky and Leon were outside, Gordon flipped one circuit breaker and Pam heard a humming and saw small metallic objects fly towards the center of the room; he had activated a super magnet of some kind. He flipped a second breaker as he whispered, "Sorry my precious…" as a massive electrical surge coursed through the desktops, servers, and mainframes.

"Over here, my ride is over here…" Leon insisted as he led Nicky around a corner.

She bolted around the corner and saw the ancient pale blue Vespa scooter and scoffed, "You're kidding right?"

Bourne goaled her, "No, this is good. This is perfect, you better drive though…"

Leon reared his head back as she snatched his keys, "She may not look like much but she has it where it counts…"

Nicky jumped on and motioned him to get behind him. She cranked it up as he jammed his helmet over her head. "They're looking for you," he explained. He clutched onto her for dear life as she accelerated down the alley and blew through both cross streets and continued following the alley and took a right at the next street.

"Where are we going?" he yelled.

"Anywhere but here…" she hollered as she searched for anyone following them and saw no-one. The others weren't as lucky.

As Nicky made her way up the narrow steps and onto the Vespa, she had no way of knowing that for the second time in the past two months a former employee was watching her through a high powered scope. Paz Carrasco saw Nicky's face and he slowly lowered the unfixed optic he was using as a monocular. He raised it and looked at her again unnecessarily, “What are you doing here…” he wondered aloud as he saw his actual target ascend the stairs. He knew someone was helping Landy, but his new handler had believed Bourne to be involved. He was just supposed to be following Landy for now, until he found a way to make her death look self inflicted.

Looking down at his GPS device he saw that the locator he had placed on Landy had just died. Nicky had missed the fact that Landy still had her gun, everything else had been discarded. Paz had loaded a fake bullet inside the clip and had been waiting and watching. Last night he had been afraid that the gun had been discarded in the apartment and then he realized the ruse.

The punk bar allowed them separation since he couldn't follow them and he hadn't fallen for the limo decoy. If he hadn't place the tracer on Landy he would've thought that he missed her somehow. He was placed in a holding pattern all night. If he went to check on the apartment, he would expose himself and almost assuredly be walking into a trap. He knew someone else was in there and he knew it wasn't Bourne. He had seen a women start to climb on onto the fire escape before changing her mind and going back in. He couldn't tell who it was from his vantage point, but knew the girl was too young and skinny to be Landy. He had been in the freezing cold for hours and finally relented and broken into an apartment in a caddy cornered building.

When he had first met Nicky Parsons he had been momentarily surprised by her age. His appointment listed her name as Nicolette and he had been expecting a motherly figure and found a kid sister. Alexander Conklin had chosen her with great care. He had thumbed through hundreds of applications and held a dozen interviews all with the singular intent on selecting the applicant least likely to appear as a threat to the men she would be commanding. He knew she would upset one of them sooner or later and wanted someone that the agents couldn't help but like.

Paz debating on whether he should check in with his handler for further instructions. He knew that he should, but he also knew they would tell him to eliminate them both. At that moment he knew that Conklin's plan had worked; he had no desire to kill Nicky Parsons, but he couldn't help her either. He was already on thin ice for not shooting Bourne, he had lied and told them that he had Bourne cornered and was going to bring him in alive.

As Paz mulled his options, he was one small revelation away from figuring out that his employers had sent someone else to dispatch Nicky, knowing that he would likely refuse. They had sent the asset that had troubled her the most and viewed her, as well as most women, with disdain.

Nigel Ward waited on the motorcycle parked at the far end of the alley and checked his watch waiting for the bus to get here. He had discovered the tracking device while wiping down the van when he returned it to the work site he had stolen it from; they would never know it was gone. He had hacked the beacon to work both ways, allowing him to locate the receiver. He then put it on a bus a mile away and raced to get to Nicky's location, he knew she would have a proximity warning on it and wanted to flush her out. The bus would pass in front of the building and he was waiting on the cross street to the rear of the alley, expecting her to leave out the back.

When he saw her blow past him on the Vespa he laughed the ridiculousness of her getaway vehicle. He waited until she was a block away and turned right before he raced to the end of the block and then turned right, following her at a great distance.

 


	4. Trouble me

Chapter 4

 

Jason Bourne reached out to grab Nicky's arm and watched as it phased through her, "Damn it… Come on Nicky, faster. You're not going to lose him, trust me. You have to make it look good though." She plodded faster down the subway stairs as she went deeper into the underworld and she wished that she were Alice going down the rabbit hole. She'd rather take on the Queen of Hearts any day verses being in her current predicament.

He continued as she pushed through the crowds of people going to visit family for Christmas, "You did the right thing getting off the bike. If you stayed with him," he swallowed hard and felt a sharp pain in his chest, "he would just get killed- like Marie. It has to be this way." She sighed as she got to the landing and turned the corner before swiping her card and going through the turnstile.

"Remember to go all the way to the left: to the beginning of the platform. I know you think that this was a bad idea and you are second guessing yourself right now. But this is a great plan and it's going to work. It's your only shot. Just act normal and look paranoid, you won't see him. Trust your instincts; I will be your eyes. Move when I tell you to and it will all be over in a second. I know you really can't hear me…" he paused for a moment and she looked around nervously, "but I am here with you. I am proud of you. I got you into this and I will be here until you're out of it. I'm sorry, but you only have to be strong another few minutes… Listen to your instincts… I won’t let you down."

"Okay, now try to look nervous…" he whispered in dulcet tones, "But no need to be nervous. I'm with you…"

Nicky craned her neck and looked in all directions. She then looked at her watch and leaned out and looked down the tracks.

"Okay don't look, but he has worked his way up, he's behind you. I think he bought it, he just checked his watch. Okay he is coming closer." He saw her swallow hard, "It's okay Nicky. I'm here…"

Nicky leaned out to look for the train again and Nigel made his move as he took three quick steps and Bourne screamed, "NOW!"

Nicky side stepped and spun, her arm was extend like a club and struck her assailant across the shoulder blades and she grabbed a fistful of his jacket and kept pushing. It was a weak blow thrown by a desperate woman, to one of the most protected areas of the body, so out of instinct he didn't bother to block it having missed her intent. It was enough to continue his momentum forward off of the platform, which he had intended to shove her off of.

She saw Nigel land on the tracks and saw him illuminated by the oncoming train. Instead of making a futile effort to save himself, he rolled in a split second and drew his pistol in a flash. She saw his blue eye down the iron sights as his finger came down on the trigger. The horn blared on the train as it him and he pulled the trigger. She heard the shot and flinched and grabbed her chest out of reflex. "It's okay, it went wide…" he whispered.

One woman screamed and a few people saw the man on the tracks, but the crowd was so dense that there was a general lack of understanding of what occurred and no one recognized the gun shot for what it was.

"Okay, here comes your friend," he said louder as the murmur of the people around him grew louder as people realized what had happened. "Let's see if he holds up his end of the deal…"

The police officer she met the day before took her by the arm, in a very Jason like way, and led her out of the throng on by standards to a bench, "Okay, sit here for a minute okay. Then you can slip away…" he whispered.

"Thank you officer, once again the CIA appreciates your assistance…" she lied in a low voice.

"Anytime… Glad you guys were on to this cell."

"I have to stay undercover, but maybe the next time I'm in town?"

He nodded, "I need to grab some bad witnesses. Be careful."

She didn't need to fake being in shock or traumatized and took a minute to relax. Her idea to try to bait him onto the tracks was risky, but she thought it gave her the best odds and it also destroyed his body. She made sure to drop a fake wallet off the platform so the police would have a name to go with the corpse. Treadstone may never figure out what happened to their agent. She found a photo that looked similar to him, but wasn't and made a fake ID for him. The police wouldn't dig too deep and Treadstone may never think to look here.

Bourne muttered, "He probably checked in today since he was hot on your trail. Usually that would give you 72 hours before he will be missed. I guess you know more about that than I do though. Okay, your friend is busy now; let's go before people realize the train isn’t going anywhere today." She slipped quietly away as was the plan.

She had visited the officer the night before and showed him her CIA credentials and explained that she was tracking a terrorist cell and that she thought her cover was blown. She said that she was setting Nigel up that day in the subway. He was to watch and not interfere unless things went south. Then he would pull her to the side and gather a dozen bad witnesses for his report as she quietly snuck away.

She walked briskly for two blocks to the park and sat on a bench. For the first time since she was scrambled in the middle of the night, to report to the safe house in Spain, she felt at ease.

Jason felt everything getting faint, as darkness closed in around the sunny day. “I think it’s time for me to go,” he said slowly. “You’ll be okay now…” he said solemnly.

She blinked back tears and he stood up and jammed his hands in his pockets, “I would say that I will wait for you, but I hope you go to a better place than I am. Where I go is cold and dark. It’s all consuming and you feel everything- constant pain, but can’t move or see. I hear mumbling sometimes.”

She blinked back tears, “thank you…” she mumbled staring at the clear blue sky, not really being able to hear him.

“Anytime you need me, just call to me. I can hear you sometimes in the darkness; when I am… away. It makes me warm, it gives me strength.”

Her eyes searched the sky and seemed to lock on his, just as he could no longer make out anything but her porcelain face in the darkness. “Goodbye Nicolette,” he kissed her lightly and suddenly she was gone and he was alone in the all consuming darkness.

Time…

…went by…

…inexorably.

He was cold and alone.

The abyss was darkness enveloped in complete silence, which was only matched by his despair and remorse.

Every part of him ached… his soul, his mind, his conscience- even the body he no longer had. His toes, his earlobes, his eye lids, his heart… everything about him felt tortured and dismembered. His stomach burned like it was full of acid and he kept trying to breathe but there was no air; or rather, he had no lungs. His torturous hunger was only matched by an unquenchable thirst.

Such was the penance for the oceans of blood that had flowed through his hands. There were those that he had killed for Treadstone; he remembered them all now. For years he wanted to remember; now he wished that he could forget. He also could remember the people he killed while in the SEALS and then the Special Forces before that.

He remembered everything and prayed for his soul and for the forgiveness of his sins, even though he knew it was too late for that. His soul was already banished: there was no light or tunnel.

He remembered the good things too. There was his family in Nixa, which included his twin brother Michael and a kid sister Avery, who was twelve years his junior and so full of life that it made him ache. He remembered football games, and barbeques… There were Christmas’s and Halloweens… proms and weddings… births and deaths.

There was Marie, sweet but tough. She had been wise but naïve. But she was gone and most assuredly not here. He had loved her, but thinking of her brought him pain and guilt, which he already had in abundance.

He remembered his time with Nicky, which felt very much like an affair. They both loved the thrill that the secret affair brought and the extreme danger it entailed. It involved a lot of sneaking around, lying to other people, frantic sex when the situation allowed, and little secret tokens of affections that meant a lot. They had too, they weren’t permitted much else.

The shows of affection started one day when he noticed that on his mission docs she would double staple the corners making a slight X. This led to him setting up an internet account in her name and would send her small gifts as if she ordered them: a scarf, perfume, or gloves. She would make sure to wear them when she knew he would be there, even when she wasn’t supposed to know he was watching. He would secretly check on her before and after missions and sometimes she would put on the gloves or the scarf as she walked down the street and smirk as a playful wave.

He would check her house and car for bugs to make sure she wasn’t being investigated, or that her phone wasn’t tapped. He would move something each time he was there, so she knew it was him who had been there. For instance, sometimes he would move a dress he liked to the front of the closet as a polite request. She learned to play the game too, leaving magazines open to ‘how to please a woman’ articles. He would answer by jokingly taking out the trash, cleaning the toilet, or doing the dishes.

Once she left a flyer to a French vineyard in her car as a pleading invitation. The next time he came back from a mission, she found three bottles of wine from that vineyard in her refrigerator as a teasing refusal. Up to the challenge, she responded by freezing the bagels he would pilfer from her cupboard at his evaluations, as an indication of her mocking dissatisfaction. He tapped her desk with it incessantly, as if bored, until she relented and retrieved the toaster from where she had hidden it.

Another time he bought a set of sheets just like hers and switched her pillow case for his, so she could smell him when she went to sleep and vice versa. All of these little things went unspoken, even when they were alone. That was part of what made it special.

He remembered that her real name was Constance and that she played the violin. He found out because her fingers tap in her sleep as she dreamt about playing. There were the little idiosyncrasies too. She brushes her teeth before and after flossing. She always does her nails on Sunday night, even if she did them the night before. She sleeps on her stomach and she wears a lot of clothing to bed but strips it all off during the night. She loves smelling unsmoked cigars, which reminded her of her grandfather. She coveted the smell and feel of cut grass which was a rare commodity in Manhattan.

He thought about how little actual time they spent together and pitied it. Every little stolen moment was anticipated for days, sometimes weeks. Every moment he saw her was sacred. He had spent nearly every waking moment for three years with Marie, which had the opposite effect. There was no mystery or build up, but he knew everything about her which had a safe, warm feeling of familiarity. Their relationship was just as special, but completely different.

He felt himself growing fainter and calmer as time went on and he settled into his situation and accepted it. He was resigning himself to his fate of lonely desolation. He had made his peace and just as he about to let go and dissipate to nothingness when he heard a faint whisper, “Oh, Jason…” in her deep yet wholly feminine tone. Her voice cracked and he heard her sob.

His heart leapt and everything brightened to a dark grey, which was akin to blinding white after an eternity of darkness. He heard a deep racking sob and looked over and saw that they were sitting in a car in complete darkness, the interior was charcoal as well and the windows were both foggy and frosted over; she had been sitting here awhile.

“Oh, David…” hearing her say his real name was like sweet music, it was dripping with grief but so sultry. He saw the river of tears and her puffy eyes as she suddenly looked around in the consol for a tissue and blew her nose unceremoniously.

“I’m here,” he tried to sound calm and to check his excitement at the door. He saw her breath exhale in the cold night air and she grabbed her shoulders but not in a bid to get warm, but to hug herself in a desperate attempt to not feel alone.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Let’s do this Parson’s,” she said as she retrieved something from the backseat. It was a pillowcase with something in it and a roll of packing tape.

She wiggled out of her jacket and then her shirt and out of habit he didn’t look away. She hadn’t been overly sensitive after her surgery, but she had never let him see her scars either. She always kept her bra or shirt on, but he was always careful to still look enthralled. She was wearing a bra, but he still felt guilty drinking in her pale naked flesh and suddenly he felt like a twelve year old peeping through a keyhole. “God, you’re so beautiful…” he whispered. She leaned forward and started to tape the pillow case to her stomach. “You’’re trying to look pregnant?” he quarried.

He watched as she adjusted her load and redressed in hospital scrubs. She looked at an ID badge with her picture and someone else’s name before jamming it in her pocket. Her hair was long and red and he watched as she adjusted it in the mirror. She put eye drops in each eye to fix the redness, but there was little that could be done about the puffiness. She quickly wiped down the car and left it without bothering to lock it.

They were in a parking lot at the rear of a huge corporate looking building and she walked briskly across the parking lot but didn’t take a direct route, “You’re avoiding the cameras as much as you can. Is this a CIA building?” They kept walking and he admired her long red hair, “What year is it? How long has it been? Five years? It’s hard for me to think…”

She of course couldn’t answer, not really being able to hear him, just having gut reactions to his prodding. She walked to the back door of the hospital and swiped the badge and typed a number on the keypad. The door clicked and she opened one half of the double doors and walked at a brisk pace through the exit that was apparently used only by employees sneaking a cigarette, if the butts around the door were to be any indication.

He saw her looking up at the strips of colored lights above the doors, used to indicate occupation and reason for admittance. The ones here at the end of the hall were all out. She picked one in the middle and slipped in. He watched as she opened the drawers and loaded it with vials of medicine, bandages, tools and other supplies. She fiddled with a locked cabinet for a few minutes, “it looks like you can pick locks but not that type: you’re doing it all wrong. The ones that take the circular keys are tricky. Come on, time to get moving. All this other stuff you could’ve bought at any corner drug store.”

“God damn it…” she hit the metal cabinet in frustration. “Four times and I still can’t get it…”

“…and you never will with those tools. Out! It’s time to go Nicky!” he goaled.

She huffed in frustration and grabbed the fast food bag she placed everything else in. “Yeah, I don’t get that… What the fast food bag about?”

She left the room and turned right instead of left. He went with her and examined her for clues. “You’re walking too light and fast, hold your belly too. You aren’t acting pregnant.”

She adjusted her stride, “You know this is kind of refreshing. If I tried to offer you advice in real life you’d fight me at every step. You pull off sassy and aloof quite well. You’re quite cute when your being sassy you know?” he said as they got on an elevator with several other people. “You have a nice butt for an expecting mother,” he laughed until he saw the orderly behind her lean back casually against the wall and examined it for himself. “Hey Spanky, keep your eyes on your own paper!””

She looked at the orderly in the reflection of the elevator doors, “We missed the sexual harassment seminar last week, did we?” she snapped causing everyone to look around and the orderly blushed.

Something clicked and Bourne asked, “Do you work here now?” The doors pinged and she got off at that floor and turned right. She stopped at the nurses’ station and examined a chart.

He blindly followed her as he thought about his latest trip to limbo. The first few times were fast, as if no time past at all. This time it felt like millennia had elapsed.

She opened a door at the end of the hall and slipped into a patient room. It was occupied, but obviously by a long term tenant who appeared to be a burn victim, he was all wrapped up. “How are you today Mr. Gorsky?” she asked sarcastically, not expecting a response. “You are as talkative as always sir!”

He laughed, “Did you ever hear about Neil Armstrong wishing Mr. Gorsky luck when he landed on the moon? I know I told you about that a dozen times. I think it’s funny because the G-men here were having kittens thinking he was a Soviet spy or something. When he got back he refused to tell anyone what he meant until decades later, when he knew the Gorsky’’s were dead.” She grabbed a crutch that had been shortened all the way and jammed it under the door handle at an angle. He murmured without really looking, “an ad hoc New York Lock. Not bad, it’ll buy you a minute.”

She sat the bag down, took off her shirt and unstrapped her bundle. Out of the pillowcase she pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She dropped her wig in the bag and tied a classic blue bandana around her head she whispered, “Best disguise ever; no-one looks a woman with cancer in the face…” She pulled the scrubs off and started to unhook her bra and he quickly spun in an about face. He heard her cutting on something but didn’t turn around out of respect.

“So, when Neil was a kid his neighbors, the Gorsky’s would fight like cats and dogs and one night he heard her scream, ‘No, sir! That little boy next door will be walking on the moon before I let you into my bed again…’ So, when he set foot on the moon he wished him luck…” he laughed hard and he heard her chuckle.

“You know it’s very unlike you to not peek when I’m dressing,” she said in a sultry tone. “You can look now……”

“You can hear me,” he turned quizzically and his mouth fell open. She had cut the gauze off the man’s face, “is that me?” he squinted at the man’’s bruised and swollen head. “That’s not me,” he said as she lifted an eyelid and a saw brown eye not a blue one.

“Come on Jason,” she pleaded as she opened the other eyelid.

He looked closer, “Contacts… You put in contacts? Jesus, I look like…” he struggled for words to describe his damaged face and broken body. “Well, I look like I just fell off a damn building……”

“Come on Jason…” she pleaded her voice cracking. “I can’t keep coming back every night. I keep moving you and faking charts, but they will find you.” She clutched his bruised hand, “Please, you have to wake up…”

“You’re being too nice. HEY! Oi!” he screamed in his own ear and his throat hurt, he saw the intubation tube going down his throat. “HEY! WAKE UP!” He tried slapping himself, placing his head inside his skull, and then took a running leap and fell through his body to the hard floor. “Ouch!”

She took the picture of them out of her bundle, she had unframed it. She placed it on the dresser facing them and took the gun out and put it on the dresser solemnly. “I know you don’t remember, but we talked about this once,” she uttered with profound sadness. ““I made you promise that if Conklin every put an order out on me, if he wanted you to kill me- that you would do it.” She gently rubbed his shaved head; he saw scars from at least one surgery.

“No, I remember. It was spring time in Paris; we were lying in bed on a Sunday afternoon after making love. It was one of the few times when we weren’t in a rush.”

“I told you that someone else would find me sooner or later and that I would rather take pills and make love and die in your arms.” He looked at her nervously and he saw his real eyes moving rapidly in REM sleep. “You told me that…” and she finally broke down into full scale blubbering, unable to finish.

“I told you that I didn’t want to go back. I never wanted them to take make back… to reeducate me. I’d rather die than be taken back to Hirsch… I asked you to kill me,” he said in a haunting tone. “I told you to switch my meds with cyanide…” She had her face in her hands crying uncontrollably. “Nicky, I trust you to make the right decision……”

She reached over and turned the heart monitor off. She wiped her tears away and then removed the electrodes and then gently tilted his head back and waited for him to start to exhale before pulling his breathing and feeding tubes out. She sighed, “You’re breathing on your own…”

She pulled out a syringe and unwrapped it, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to the good drugs…”

“It’s okay… You tried…”

She lowered the bed rail and carefully climbed onto the bed and lay down next to him. She reached behind her for the gun and placed it on her chest and she took his hand in hers she pulled the plunger on the syringe back, then she inserted it into the vein in his hand and pulled it back more drawing blood into it. She was going to inject air into his blood stream to cause an air embolism; it would hit his heart and cause a vacuum to form in his ventricle and stop his heart.

He blinked twice, realizing what she was doing when she adjusted his hand on her belly and held the gun in the other hand; it was resting on her chest pointed at her head. “No! NO! Nicky Parsons, this is NOT what we talked about! Stop this…”

She turned her head towards him and looked at the picture and laughed genuinely, “you always could make me laugh!”

“NO! Nicky, look at me! LOOK AT ME! We didn’t talk about this being a Romeo and Juliet deal… The other one of us was supposed to live! CONSTANCE, stop this! LOOK AT ME!” he bellowed and her eyes flitted over to him and her mouth fell open and her breath hitched. She lifted her head and her breath hitched again and she swallowed hard. He realized she wasn’t look at him but through him, he turned and saw a defibrillation machine.

It clicked to him too, “DO IT! What’s it going to do kill me? DO IT! Get up! If that doesn’t wake me up nothing will…”

She carefully pulled the needle out and secured the weapon. She jumped up and charged the paddles. She grabbed his gown and ripped it down and poured KY jelly on it and spread it around. “I’m glad you’re a doctor. I never learned how to use those……”

She hit him without warning and he blacked out for a minute and he suddenly realized that his limbo was actually him being in his body. “I can do this! Do it again!” he forced himself to dissipate.

She leaned forward and listened to his heart and his breathing and then hit him again. She put her head on his chest to listen again and her hand was on his throat feeling his pulse.

She was looking down his body and didn’t see Jason Bourne’s eyes snap open. He saw the lights, smelled the ammonia, and then he felt the remains of the electricity that had coursed through him. Suddenly he sprang to life, grabbed her, then rolled and twisted off the table in the blink of an eye. He was back there… with them… He heard the haunting voice of Albert Hirsch, “Will you give yourself to this program?” then the sound of his own screams and the burning of his flesh. “You came to us Jason…… You volunteered!” Then he was strapped to a table being water boarded and remembered how the drugs addled his brain.

“NO!” he shrieked. “NO! NOT AGAIN!” he screamed in terror as he grabbed his assailant and pulled back and he realized his attacker was light or he had a Hulk like adrenaline rush or both. He solidified his choke hold and kept them off their feet. He must run; he must get away! He had to dispatch this person quickly and quietly and escape.

As life drained from the struggling body, he channeled all of his pent up hatred, rage, and fear into the choke hold. He had a flash of the man with the bag over his head, the man he murdered and he realized how badly he wanted to kill this anonymous person. Through the red murderous haze he saw them feebly reach back with a limp hand, to go for his eyes which were well out of reach. Suddenly he felt the small hand gently rub the back of his ear and then lovingly caress his earlobe. Out of shock more than anything he dropped the person, hooked his foot under their arm, and kicked them over.

He saw Nicky’s pain stricken blue face and then her bald head as she rasped and coughed for air and suddenly the world was growing dark as though a drain plug had been pulled and all the blood was rushing out of him. “What are you doing here…” he managed before he collapsed and darkness once again consumed him.

There was darkness…

Then there was light…

Then dark.

Then light.

He heard the never ending whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, and thought he was in Iraq on a chopper until he saw the street lights blowing by. He was on the highway, in the back of a van. He saw her face over him, but it was blurry and indistinct. She was trying to tell him something… but then she went away and it was dark.

He had nightmares and there was pain and screaming; then he realized he was screaming and someone would rub his head then his earlobes and say soothing things. He was being taken somewhere, but couldn’t focus. He felt the need to fight, then to flee… but then he would hear her voice trying to calm him. He remembered ice chips, and cold compresses; he knew he had a fever and it was very high. Always there was her voice, sometimes singing… other times talking… He didn’t understand the words, but like a child in the womb he understood the message. He was safe and secure; there was no need to worry. There was no reason to run or to fight.

Darkness and light. Light and dark…

Then finally the terror eased and he stopped screaming and clutching the blankets and he slept, really slept, as he hadn’t for years. He dreamt that he had been fixing loose boards on the barn all day with his brother and was exhausted. Then there was sunlight, warm and bright. It vanquished the darkness of his past and the cold hollowness of his soul. The smell of death and ammonia was replaced with vanilla pancakes and bacon. The sound of his screaming was replaced by her voice. He could hear her singing and now he could clearly make out the words… and for a moment in time- in that blissful moment just after awaking- he wondered if he was now in heaven as he listened to her.

 

“Trouble me- disturb me with all your cares and your worries.

Trouble me- on the days when you feel spent.

Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden- when my back is sturdy and strong?

Trouble me!”

 

He realized suddenly that she was playing a violin to the song, which explained why her voice sounded off, because her cheek was pressed against the violin. He wasn’t moving anymore; he realized he had been laying down in a van for a long time, a day at least. Then he felt the clean soft sheets under him. He felt the bed shift and realized she was on it too.

 

“Speak to me- don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;

There's no telling where it starts or how it ends.

Speak to me- why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me- when your silence is my greatest fear?

Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden- when my back is sturdy and strong?

Speak to me…”

“Is that bacon…?” he croaked in a toad like voice.

She giggled, “Not what I was hoping for, but I’ll take it! Yes, here you go. Banana and vanilla pancakes, bacon, and OJ. Your fever finally broke last night.”

He opened his eyes painfully and saw her sitting on the bed, but just out of arms reach. He saw her bald head and murmured, “How did the surgery go?”

“Oh,” she seemed surprised. “Well there was a skull fracture and significant brain trauma…”

“What are you talking about?” he croaked, his vocal cords still sore from the intubation. He reached for the juice and saw that his left hand and forearm had a hideous bruise and as he shifted and tried to sit up his whole body was shrieking in pain.

She blinked twice again and raised an eyebrow, “what are you talking about?”

“Your surgery,” he said gently, his eyes resolutely locked on hers and didn’t divert to her head or chest.

Her eyes narrowed, “What exactly do you remember- the last thing?”

He thought for a long time as he chewed bacon, “I don’t know,” and she looked gravely concerned, “…everything… it’’s seems all mixed up…” he said concerned.

She moved closer and sat next to him, “Do you remember Marie?” she asked gently, placing her hand on his.

“Marie?” and something shifted in his head. “It seems like… a dream. I had lots of weird dreams. It feels like there are two people in here.”

“That sounds very good. I can help you with that,” she said confidently. “Do you remember me? What’s my name?” she asked hopefully.

He glared at her incredulously, but the tone of his voice was hesitant, “How could I forget you?” he asked more to himself than to her, realizing that he had forgotten her before. “Which one… Nicolette Parsons, Constance Lindbergh, Gillian Fox… there are others…” he swallowed. “Corrine Deschamp… Isabella Roche…”

She clutched his hand in excitement and he saw the ring on her hand, “You found it! The love letters I wrote? I hid them in my apartment…”

“Yes, they are so beautiful!”

“Sorry the ring isn’t special; I used my own money- not blood money,” he said sounding ashamed, suddenly remembering that she came from a very affluent family.

She beamed, “It is special; I knew that’s what you did and I love it all the more for it.” He saw Doctor Parsons take the reins again, “Do you know where you are?””

He looked around and shook his head no, then looked out the window. He saw the ancient gnarled chestnut tree branches scraping against the old window. He cocked his head and was clearly quoting something, “Nearly every morning I go to the attic to blow the stuffy air out of my lungs, from my favorite spot on the floor I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree, on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, and at the seagulls and other birds as they glide on the wind. As long as this exists, I thought, and I may live to see it, this sunshine, the cloudless skies, while this lasts I cannot be unhappy.”

“That’s beautiful…”

“Anne Frank,” he muttered sadly. “This is my old room… in Nixa. The wall paper is gone and the furniture is different, same tree though… I injured my brain? Am I okay?”

She finally wept in joy, openly and unabashed, “Yeah, I think you’re going to be just fine…”

“My family, they know that I am really alive? They told them that I died…”

She nodded, “I came here years ago- after Paris, and told them everything. I was afraid you’d remember the address and just show up on the door step. I told them you might need some time to… adjust. I figured you would never ever come here, so it was the last place anyone would look.”” He looked worried, “I was really careful getting here…”

“How come they didn’t get me? I left you in Spain…”

“Well, they didn’t find you in the river. A policeman found you in Central Park halfway frozen. You told them you were from Portugal and that you were beaten and mugged. You had a Portuguese passport and they checked you in under that name. I read about it in the paper and I recognized the name, I created it after all…… It raised a huge stink in Europe, you were beaten so badly that they put out a travel warning to avoid going to New York City.”

“Wow, how did they not find me then?”

“It was massively publicized; I guess they figured it couldn’t be you. It damn sure didn’t look like you. I had to look for scars to be sure. Once I found you I put in brown contacts and kept moving you around every night.”

“Are they after us?”

She checked her watch, “The asset they sent for me should be hitting his latest possible check in time in two hours. I killed him… Nigel…”

He curdled his nose, “Ass…”

“Yeah... I had to get you to someplace safe. You tore out your catheter and colostomy bag when you… woke up, and you already had a staph infection. I couldn’t do everything myself and I didn’t know what your mental state or capacity would be. You had a real high fever for days. Two of my friends in New York helped me drive down here; they left yesterday and are going to locations unknown.”

He pulled her turtle neck down, seeing the deep purple bruises. “I…” he shook his head.

She grinned, “You’ve wanted to do that enough times…” she laughed. “I was hiding it from your mother, but don’t worry- it was worth it!”

As he sat up and tried to eat, something clicked and he looked up suddenly, “Pam? Pamela Landy…”

“She is safe. Paz Carrasco found her and got her out of the country. They are globetrotting and will then hide out in safety.”

“Paz?” He realized with a jolt that he had killed many assets that he- they- counted as friends, but he didn’t know that name.

“He was in the next batch of recruits. You met him on the roof and apparently made quite an impression…”

“Oh… Wait a minute… He shot me in the back…”

“Oh, no that was Noah Vosen.”

“Okay, well long as Pam is okay.”

He sat in silence for a long time pretending to eat, but obviously he was deep in thought. The moment grew awkward and she got up and put the clearly second hand violin in its case and closed it slowly. “You’re doing it already. Shutting me out… walling yourself in. Tell me what you’’re thinking right now… I’m a big girl.” She slowly sat next to him.

He chewed the last of his bacon a long time, never meeting her eyes. She started to get up and he put his hand on her leg. He was silent for another moment before finally speaking. “You will think I’m insane,” he said flatly.

“Maybe,” she said with great gentleness. “But I would still trust you implicitly. If you’re feeling something now- a violent urge or a rabid sexual…”

He shook his head rapidly, “No, nothing like that.” He locked eyes with her and she knew he was waiting for any little change in her facial expression and she raised an eyebrow and prepared to not show any change in her face that would betray her initial thoughts. “I think I had an out of body experience…”

He saw genuine relief spread over her whole body and she inhaled deeply and exhaled. “God, you scared the crap out of me! No, that’s quite normal with: brain injuries, comas, and surgery. I had one during my operation; I could see the whole thing from above… I……” she swallowed hard, “I knew what I saw going to look like: the scars… Later the counselors kept trying to get me to look and I wouldn’t. Not because I couldn’t handle it, but because I was afraid about being right about what I saw.”

“I was with you… you lit a candle for Marie…”

“I told you everything each night and then I told you again on the way here…”

He frowned, “You don’t believe me…”

She pursed her lips and never broke eye contact, “I know that you would move heaven and earth to save me and… if that was possible… that you did. I felt like you were there with me sometimes…” she said with complete sincerity. “How’s that?”

He nodded slowly, “that will do…”

“Do you want to go and meet them now, or did you want to get some more sleep?”

“No, I’m done counting sheep…”

 

 

 

*Hope you enjoyed it. If you did, check out my longer Bourne story: Bourne Again. Don't forget to drop a comment in… :)

 

 

 

PS Sheep now has me addicted to Big Bang Theory... I hope you enjoyed the cameo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to drop a comment in… :) 
> 
> PS FrustSheep now has me addicted to Big Bang Theory... I hope you enjoyed the cameo

**Author's Note:**

> The Manipulated pic I am using for the cover art was created Frust-sheep and inspired me to write this (I thought he looked ghost-like with the light all around him).


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